Né Oc Vol Knurlan
by Stronghammer78
Summary: It has been five years since the downfall of Galbatorix. Alagaësia is at peace, and the second generation of Riders is finally emerging. Will this peace last? Or will a new, yet very old foe destroy all that Eragon and his companions have accomplished?
1. News From the Queen

Roran sat stiffly upon his chair in the main hall of the castle that now stood on the hill in Palancar Valley. Katrina stood at his right side, Ismira resting quietly in her arms. The hall that they were in was grand compared to the buildings that had once inhabited Carvahall, but humble in comparison to Tronjheim or the citadel in Ilirea. It contained modest wooden furnishings, a few dozen windows, and was just tall and long enough to comfortably house a dragon.

"Katrina, you have been standing too long," Roran said, turning to his wife. "What say you take Ismira back to the house? That way you can rest some?" His scarred right palm rested on his legendary hammer, which he had only needed to use twice since the defeat of Galbatorix almost five years before.

"Why should I have to go to rest, when you have been up and working longer than I?" As the toddler in her arms shifted, Katrina lowered her voice and leaned towards her husband's ear. "I do not enjoy leaving your side, especially when you are holding your monthly audience," she whispered.

"Well…" he started, unsure of what to say. While it was true that he had been working since an hour before dawn, Roran enjoyed giving the people under his care a chance to place their burdens and crises at his feet, much like Queen Nasuada had while she led the Varden. When Carvahall was rebuilt about a year-and-a-half after the mad king's demise, it was built larger and better than before, with a wall surrounding the city that was 15 feet high. The population of Carvahall had increased to nearly 3,000, with Therinsford at almost 2,700. Many people had flocked to Palancar Valley when they heard that Roran Stronghammer had been named Earl of the valley.

Some of these individuals had been men who had been under Roran's command in the Varden. Others were citizens of the Empire who wished to see the land that had borne both Eragon Kingkiller and Roran Stronghammer, hoping to see the man related to the Dragon Rider who had become the stuff of legends himself. A few people, however, had been soldiers and officers under Galbatorix. Because of this fact, Roran had been wary of potential assassins, and so had mustered a force of guards that circulated around him, Katrina and Ismira. At any given moment, no fewer than ten men were within striking distance of Roran, and five for Katrina.

"I just think that it would be better if you were at home. I worry about your health, what with you being six months pregnant," Roran answered after a thoughtful pause.

"I'm not leaving with Jörmundur on his way! I don't want to miss hearing whatever message Queen Nasuada has sent him with," Katrina replied haughtily.

Just before Roran could concede her wishes, the double doors at the end of the hall creaked as they opened. "Her Majesty the Queen's envoy, General Jörmundur has arrived!" a herald exclaimed as the man himself entered the hall.

"Lord Stronghammer!" boomed Jörmundur as he leisurely made his way towards the head of the hall, passing dozens of tables along the way. He walked in a way that caused his long black cape to swish from side to side, mirroring his shoulder-length brown hair. He wore a full set of gleaming, silver-colored plate armor. "It has been too long, my friend!"

Rising from his chair, Roran responded, "Aye, that it has. Tell me, have you been dying your hair?" A grin spread across his face, almost hidden by his thick beard. He grasped Jörmundur's forearm, then pulled him into a tight embrace, causing the armor to clank against itself. Roran's burgundy tunic and black trousers brushed against the polished metal, causing the shine to be slightly marred as the polish came off on Roran's clothes. When he puled away, his old friend turned to Katrina.

"My lady Katrina," he said with a slight bow. He then strode towards her and planted a light kiss upon each of her rosy cheeks, taking care not to crush the still-sleeping Ismira. "Had a long day, this one?" he asked, indicating the child.

Katrina chuckled and nodded in response. "Aye, a long day of chasing hens, laughing at the jokes of bards, and playing with the dogs, amongst other things. She fell asleep almost an hour ago, just after her bath. How are you?" she questioned as she flattened a crease in the pale blue dress she wore.

"I fare well, as does all of Alagäesia," he answered happily. He then turned his attention back to Roran, who stood with his hands behind his back. "I come bearing excellent news, my lord!" he said, pulling a folded piece of parchment out from under his left vambrace. He handed it to Roran, a bemused grin on his face. "Last we saw each other, I would have had to read this to you!"

"Aye, but what kind of earl would I be if I had to rely on others to write my statements and read to me the replies? Queen Nasuada was right; I was a liability when I didn't know how to read. Now though, reading takes up almost half of my day!" he said as he unfolded the parchment. He bowed his head over the letter as he sat.

_Lord Roran Stronghammer,_

_I hope that this letter is finding you in good health. I__'__m sorry that there has been so little correspondence between us these past few years, but I__'__m sure that you understand that I have been busy running the Empire. Speaking of which, I must now to business. I am sending you this letter to inform you that Carvahall is now on the list of cities to be visited by the couriers that carry the two dragon eggs appointed for the human race. The eggs will remain in Carvahall for one month, and will then be taken to Narda. The egg-couriers have travelled from Ilirea with J__ö__rmundur. I trust that you will keep them and the eggs safe while they are under your care. Give Katrina and Ismira a hug from me, and congratulations to both you and Lady Katrina. I hope that the pregnancy goes well._

_Your friend, the Queen,_

_Nasuada_

"Roran, is everything alright?" Katrina asked, concerned. "You look almost as if you have seen a Shade…"

"Jörmundur, is this true?" Roran demanded, disbelief evident on his face.

"Aye, it is lad," he answered. He then brought his hand to his lips and whistled shrilly. As the note faded, the doors swung open again and two men entered, carrying a large wooden chest each.

"Roran, what is going on?" Katrina asked with a misty voice.

"Her Majesty the Queen has decided to send the eggs given to the human race…" he paused. "She has sent them _here_, Katrina!"


	2. Five Long Years

**Hey guys, so I updated this just a tiny bit. I changed the size of Vardi from the size of Parlim to the size of Beirland and Parlim combined. I did this because I realized that the island would be too small to house Riders after they complete their training who want to live nearby. I'm working on chapter seven, and it will be finished shortly!**

Eragon sat in the saddle nestled between Saphira's shoulders, silently watching their surroundings. The constant flapping of Saphira's enormous wings lulled Eragon into a sense of wary relaxation. He extended his consciousness to encompass everything around him, finding only a few birds of prey within his range. As Saphira glided through a cloud, Eragon's wards prevented the freezing water droplets from coming into contact with him or his dragon.

In the five years since Galbatorix had been slain, Eragon had been extremely busy. The first few months he had spent by completing missions for the new monarch, Queen Nasuada. He then decided, with Saphira's agreement, to leave Alagäesia in search of a remote location where he could train new Riders and she could train young dragons in the years to come.

Eragon and Saphira had spent weeks searching for a suitable home, forsaking a small forest to the East of the Edda River as well as a mountain range to the North of said forest. They eventually found a lake that was almost three times the size of Leona Lake, which was fed by several rivers, including the Edda. Eragon decided to name the lake Adurna Maela, which meant "quiet water" in the Ancient Language. Located in the center of the circular lake was an island the size of Parlim and Beirland combined, which Saphira named Vardi, or "protect" in the Ancient Language.

The island rose out of the water like a spire on a cathedral, equivalent in height to the tallest mountains in the Spine. The island was almost completely flat, with only a few trees and shrubs dotting its surface and no animals other than insects and birds inhabiting it. It was on Vardi that Eragon and Saphira decided, with consent from the elves and the Eldunarí, to build their new home.

The construction of the gigantic fortress took the better part of two years to complete. Eragon, Saphira, the elves and the sane Eldunarí all contributed what they could in order to have the building ready for when an egg hatched for the newest Rider. They used stone from the sides of the island, excavating caves that could one day become homes for wild dragons, and wood from the oak trees found in the nearby forest.

It was during the third month of construction that the first wild dragon egg had hatched, bringing an orange female into the world. After consulting with Glaedr and Umaroth, Saphira brought the hatchling to the mountain range that she and Eragon had discovered. The mountains had been bountiful with prey, and several caves were available for the young dragon to use as shelter. Once she returned to Vardi, Saphira laid an egg of her own, one that was pure white and larger than hers had been. After Saphira laid her egg, Eragon - with the guidance of dozens of Eldunarí - placed the spells of bonding upon the egg so that it would only hatch when it's Rider came into contact with it.

During the sixth month of construction, about one year after Eragon defeated the Black King, Eragon sent Blödhgarm back to Alagäesia along with eight eggs destined for Riders. Blödhgarm took a total of two months to bring two eggs to each race that was a part of the pact with the dragons, after which he returned. While Blödhgarm was gone, another female dragon hatched, this one a light bronze, which Saphira also escorted to the nearby mountains.

Six months later, Eragon and Saphira left Vardi to explore more of the uncharted lands around them, leaving the elves to continue working. Eragon had wanted to bring Glaedr, but the old dragon had refused, believing it best that he stay to help bring more Eldunarí back to sanity. Ultimately realizing that he was right, Eragon and Saphira set off, unsure of what they would find.

To the South of Adurna Maela, which was just East of the small forest they came to call Litil Ekar (little oak in the Ancient Language), they discovered what seemed to be an extension of the Beor Mountains. The mountains they found were of the same height, and created a giant ring, larger in diameter than the island of Vroengard. They called the ring of mountains the Du Fells Edoc'sil, or Unconquerable Mountains, on account of their height. The southernmost of these mountains touched the sea, so from there they travelled northeast.

Many miles northeast of the Du Fells Edoc'sil, yet still far southeast of Adurna Maela, the pair discovered a vast grassland that was similar in size to the Hadarac Desert. Here they discovered several tribes of nomadic peoples, who responded in fear whenever Saphira came into view. Also in the grassland, they found vast herds of animals with gray, leathery skin, tusks that were whiter than snow, noses that were opposable and almost as long as their bodies, and enormous ears. The animals grew to be about the size of a house, although a few specimens they saw dwarfed any animal they had ever seen before, excluding old dragons. Using the name of the Ancient Language, Eragon named the animals Drjugr Elefar, or Strong Animals, for he and Saphira agreed that even a dragon might have difficulty killing one of the great beasts.

After traveling for nearly four months, they decided it was time to return to Vardi. Once they arrived at the island, Blödhgarm informed them that finally, almost two years since Galbatorix's death, another egg had hatched for her Rider, only two days before their return. The female had hatched for an Urgal, and Eragon immediately contacted Nasuada and Arya. They quickly decided that the new Rider should train with the elves in Du Weldenvarden with Arya, at least until the fortress was complete.

Eragon and Saphira then dedicated all of their energy into completing their new home. When they completed the frame and the shell of the massive structure, which took the shape of an equal-armed cross with a massive courtyard in the center and towers in the middles of each arm, they decided to devote one arm of the structure to each race bonded to the pact with the dragons. The North arm they devoted to making humans feel at home, making rooms and furniture to appropriate dimensions. They did the same in each other arm, West for Urgals - making rooms and furniture so that even a Kull would be comfortable - South for elves, and East for dwarves.

Six months after their return to Vardi, the fortress was finished. The towers on each arm were connected by buttresses, which grew into a central tower suspended almost 500 feet above the courtyard where all four buttresses met. When asked what he would name it, as it was his design that the builders had followed, Eragon decided to call it Galbagrind, or Big Gate, stating that it would be a gate to the second age of Riders.

The remainder of the five years (which was about two-and-a-half years) Eragon spent amassing the greatest library ever seen. Tomes and scrolls from every race in Alagäesia were sent to Gabagrind, which Eragon collected and put into the bottom floor of the suspended tower. When he wasn't collecting books or flying with Saphira, he was reading. He soon learned both the Urgal and Dwarvish languages, and he learned as much as he could about magic, nature, and other things in the world, such as the Urgal culture, which he only partially understood before.

Now, five years after the death of the king and almost three years after the first dragon hatched for her Rider, Eragon and Saphira awaited their new students eagerly. Accompanying the first Urgal Rider and his dragon was a dwarf Rider, two new elvish Riders, a human Rider, and Arya and Fírnen. Only ten of the wild dragons had not yet hatched, and all of the once-enslaved Eldunarí were once again sane.

_So much has changed in such a short time_, Eragon said to Saphira through their mental link.

_Yes, it has little one_, came her reply. _You are excited to see her again, aren__'__t you?_ she asked, sending him a mental image of Arya.

_Aye, I am. But I can__'__t let my emotions get in the way of my teachings_, he said, somewhat distraught. He wondered how Arya would act towards him when they would see each other later that day.

_Well, I for one am happy that I get to see F__í__rnen again. I wonder if he__'__ll approve of my giving our egg to the new Riders_, she thought.

_Oh, is this doubt that I__'__m feeling?_ Eragon asked teasingly. Without warning, Saphira let out a mighty roar and pulled into a steep dive, angling them towards their room at the top of the central tower. Letting his hands release the spike on her neck, Eragon whooped with joy as Saphira hurtled toward their new home with frightening speed.


	3. New Family and Old Friends

**(Announcements) Hey guys! Thanks so much to everyone who has left at least one review, and also thanks to everyone who has read this so far! I want to give a special thanks to _darkdruid01_ for proofreading my chapter. Anyways, this chapter is about twice as long as the other two were, primarily because a couple of you asked for longer chapters. What do the rest of you think; long or short chapters? Keep those reviews coming, and I hope you enjoy the new chapter.**

Eragon shifted his weight from one leg to the other as he stood in front of the mirror that was taller than he was. His reflection stared back at him, garbed in gleaming plate armor, which was the same shade of blue as Saphira's wing membranes. The gift from King Orik had arrived almost a year ago, along with a new set of armor for Saphira, but Eragon hadn't worn it once until this moment, busy as he had been with building the library and the wards that surrounded the island. Turning away from the mirror, Eragon picked up his helm - which still bore the Ingeitum's crest - from where it sat on his bed and spun it once between his hands. Uncertainty clawed at his mind, forcing him to rethink donning the helm.

_If I wear it, I__'__ll be alienating the other races,_ Eragon said to Saphira, who was sprawled on the floor in front of Eragon's bed. _Maybe I should just take the armor off; that way, the students don__'__t see me as a warrior. Riders are supposed to be peacekeepers, not warmongers. What do you think?_

_ I think that you should keep the armor on, and carry the helmet with you, _Saphira replied, opening one large eye to stare at him. _You are human, but you look like an elf, and you__'__ve been adopted into a Dwarf clan. Do not worry yourself overmuch about your students seeing you in armor, Little One, for both the elves and the dwarf who fly towards us are surpass you in years. You will need to be confident when they first meet you in order to stamp out any__…__disrespect that they might be harboring against you._

_ Ah, you__'__re probably right. I had almost forgotten just how rude Vanir once was to me; and he was a young elf! Imagine how an older elf would feel if he or she had to call me Master, _Eragon said, astonished that the thought hadn't yet occurred to him.

Saphira let loose a throaty chuckle that shook all ten walls of the room. She stood slowly, her scales scraping against the wood that framed the bed. Her talons clacking against the gray stone floor, Saphira made her way past the bookshelves that lined eight of the walls, moving towards the center of the humongous room. She crawled over the hole that marked the top of the spiral staircase, which wound its way up through the tower like a worm climbing to the surface of the Earth attempting to escape its flooded tunnels. Stopping directly above the hole, she slithered her neck and triangular head towards the canvas membrane that covered the opening in the wall.

With a small hiss, she flicked her forked tongue into the air to taste it. _Eragon, you smell extremely nervous. Relax; then, once you__'__ve calmed down a bit, would you open the door?_

_ Whatever for?_ Eragon retorted, frustrated that his emotions were getting the better of him. Saphira's head snapped back, and she growled softly. _Sorry, I didn__'__t mean to snap._ Breathing deeply, Eragon recited some Elvish poetry to himself, muttering in the Ancient Language. After a few stanzas, his heart rate slowed markedly, and he was able to think clearly again. Grabbing the edge of the canvas, which was made of the same material as the membranes in Ellesméra, he pulled it away from the wall and allowed it to retract itself into the gap of the wall adjacent to the opening.

As a light breeze entered the room, Eragon and Saphira stepped out onto the balcony that faced West, towards their old lives and friends. Standing at the edge of the balcony, Eragon gazed down towards the rest of the keep, nearly a thousand feet below them. Although the air was thin, Eragon felt at ease as he inhaled deeply, smelling the faintest hint of rain on the breeze.

"There's a storm approaching," he said aloud, breaking the momentary silence. "I hope that the other Riders didn't get caught up in it."

_It__'__s approaching from the South, Eragon. Stop worrying so much. Hatchlings though they might be, the new litter of Riders can handle themselves well enough to weather a little storm, don__'__t you think?_ Saphira said, turning to gaze at him pointedly.

"Stop patronizing me," Eragon said as he slapped his hand lightly against the scales on her front left shoulder. "We should probably get down to the courtyard to meet them," Eragon muttered, shielding his eyes with one of his hands as he looked to the West, where the sun was approaching the horizon, bathing the world in deep reds and vibrant oranges.

_Hop on then, and let__'__s get ready to meet the newest members of our family!_

Hovering about a dozen feet above the opening that led to the courtyard, Eragon and Saphira both felt their excitement growing. The multicolored spark had appeared on the horizon a few minutes before, and had divided into six individual sparks, each of which was approaching rapidly.

As the Riders and their dragons grew ever closer, Eragon magically increased the volume of his voice so that it echoed across the plateau of Vardi. Then, speaking in the Ancient Language, said, "I, Eragon Bromsson, lessen the barriers around this island so that these Riders may approach unhindered." Once all six pairs had crossed the invisible threshold that encircled the island, Eragon again restored the magical barriers to their original state.

Less than a minute later, Fírnen opened his wings and flapped backwards several times, gliding to a halt in front of Saphira. When he saw Arya upon Fírnen's back, her long black hair bound by a simple leather band, Eragon felt a grin tugging at his ears. Saphira bugled happily and then dove into the courtyard, encouraging Arya and the others to follow.

Saphira landed heavily, causing the ground to buckle slightly underneath her massive bulk. Eragon undid the straps around his legs and slipped out of the saddle onto the ground just as Fírnen landed. Above, the five other dragons were floating towards the ground, their wingbeats creating concussive thuds that echoed around the courtyard. There was a black dragon, a yellow dragon, a brown dragon, a teal dragon, and a dragon whose color matched that of a bleached skeleton. The black dragon carried a human, a young man with copper skin, icy eyes, brown hair that hung to his ears, and a round, boyish face. The yellow dragon bore the Dwarf, a stout male with a beard and hair that matched his dragon's scales, a long nose and coal-colored eyes. The brown dragon carried a female elf, who had silver hair and forest-green eyes. The teal dragon carried a female Urgal, who looked to be about seven feet tall, wore her raven locks in a braid that hung to her waist, horns that would make a Feldûnost jealous, and fierce orange eyes. The bone-colored dragon bore a male elf, whose hair was also silver, and he had eyes the color of deep water.

Beaming as he examined all of them, Eragon realized that he was not the only one wearing armor. The human and the Dwarf both wore mail shirts and brown trousers, while the dam had a leather tunic on that was studded with spikes, as well as black leggings. The elves - Arya included - wore simple tunics and leggings. The entire group wore black riding boots.

_Time to welcome them, _Eragon thought nervously as he absently put his left hand on the pommel of Brisingr. "WELC - AGH!" he began, forgetting that he hadn't yet removed the enchantment that increased the volume of his voice. Each of the Riders cupped their hands to their ears (the elves cried out in pain), and the dragons all hissed as the echoes reverberated off of the distant walls of the courtyard. Muttering a few words in the Ancient Language as softly as he could, Eragon returned his voice back to normal.

"Sorry about that," the Head Rider said sheepishly. Shifting his helm from his right hand to the crook in his left arm, Eragon cleared his throat as the Riders and dragons turned their attentions back to him. On a whim, he said, "Some first impression, eh?"

After half of a heartbeat, laughter erupted from everyone assembled, elves and dragons included. Allowing himself a wry smile, Eragon glanced over at Arya while he waited for everyone's merriment to subside. Making eye contact, she stifled her laughter and then gave him a smile that radiated approval. Encouraged by her familiarity, Eragon waited patiently for the laughter to finish dying out. "As I'm sure you all already know, I'm Eragon, but as your teacher and Head Rider, you will only address me as Master in this tongue or Ebrithil in the Ancient Language. The same applies for Saphira, Arya, and Fírnen, unless you are told otherwise."

"While you are living here at Galbagrind, there are a few expectations that I have of each of you. I know that all of us come from very diverse backgrounds, but because we are now a family, I expect that each of you will show one another the respect that is deserved. Any disputes, when they arise, will be handled peacefully; if things begin to move towards bloodshed, someone must alert either myself or Arya, and we will resolve what we must. Also, you will all be expected to devote yourselves to your training, as I'm sure all of you already have, considering you all have begun your training with Arya."

"Now, in order to get to know all of you better, I requested that Arya, as well as the leaders of the other races, share nothing about any of you with me. As such, you all have a clean slate; that is, you can start anew with me, and I will be basing my judgments of you upon what I see and hear from this point on. However, this puts me at a slight disadvantage; I don't even know your names. Would each of you, dragons included, please introduce yourselves to myself and Saphira when I indicate that it is your turn to speak?" Eragon asked. When everyone nodded in approval, he said, "Then please tell us your name, a bit of your background, and something interesting about yourself."

Eragon then indicated that the Dwarf should speak first. Clearing his throat, he said in a rich baritone, "Mine name is Harfind, and I am a knurla of Dûrgrimst Urzhad. I am now thirty years old, and blessed by Gûntera to be a member of the Riders. An interesting fact about me is that I could use magic before he hatched," Harfind said, indicating the yellow dragon behind him.

_And my name is Mend__û__nost. I have little background to speak of, but I wish to thank you, Masters, for helping restore order to Alaga__ë__sia. If I had been in my egg much longer__…__well, my body would be warped and unsightly,_ the yellow dragon said, broadcasting his thoughts so all could hear.

_A fitting match, those two, _Saphira said to Eragon privately. _Both are polite, but ferocity and strength are the first tools they use to tackle a situation. Both of their minds speak of bloodlust and hunger for battle, both eager to prove themselves._

Making a mental note of what Saphira said, Eragon then gestured to the female Urgal. After lifting her head to show her throat in a gesture of great respect, the dam said, "Greetings Master Firesword, Master Flametongue. I am Grishnal, and I am Nar Garzhvog's daughter. I am seventeen, and I placed second in the war games that took place the year before my dragon hatched," she said in a guttural voice that reminded Eragon of gravel crunching underfoot.

_And I am Miramal, _the teal dragon thought, seeming somewhat timid. She continued, _I too wish to thank our Masters for freeing us._

_ Strange__…__a shy female dragon,_ Eragon said to Saphira. She lashed her tail from sided to side, seeming agitated. After ensuring everything was okay, he prompted the human to speak.

Stepping forward, the youth said, "My name is Bran. I am the youngest of us at only fifteen. I was born in Feinster to wealthy parents, but we lost everything when I was young; caravans we sent to support the Varden were destroyed. After that, I grew up on the streets. Anyways, I excel at wizard's duels; my mind is the most powerful tool I possess."

_My name is Flint, _came the thought of the black, male dragon behind Bran. _Jarnunv__ö__sk was my sister._

A ripple of surprise went through the congregation of Riders and dragons as they realized that Flint had just told them his sister had been Galbatorix's first dragon. _They both seem rather reserved, _Eragon said to Saphira. _It might just be their nerves, but they both said as little as they could without being rude. _Eragon glanced at Arya, but she wasn't looking at him. She seemed to be having an intense conversation with Fírnen, based upon her furrowed brow.

At Eragon's prompting, the female elf stepped forward. "My name is Yilla. I am seventy years of age, and I am related to Linnëa, the elf that is now the Menoa Tree."

_And I am P__ï__nor, _came the brown's mental voice, which gurgled softly like a stream. The female continued, _We are lucky to be under your tutelage, Masters._

_It would seem that reservation is a recurring theme with this group, _Saphira thought as she bared her fangs in a toothy grin.

_I hope, or part of me does, that they__'__re just being overly formal in an attempt to get on my good side, _he replied. Gesturing warmly to the male elf, Eragon said, "Last, but never least."

" I am Cradic, and Cradic is me," came the elf's reply. Taking a step forward, he bowed and twisted his first two fingers over his sternum in the Elven gesture of respect. "I am two fifty-four years old, and I was one of the elves who fought against the Forsworn before the Fall."

_I am __Ä__vil, _said the bone-colored dragon, who was also a female. _My fact is that Vrael__'__s dragon, Umaroth, was my sire._

A second ripple of surprise made its way through the group. "Well, it is nice to meet all of you, Riders and dragons alike. I can't wait to continue your training and educations, which will resume tomorrow morning," Eragon said, clapping his hands together lightly after setting his helm down. "Welcome to your new home, all of you. Each of you can choose and alter your rooms as you see fit. Bran, your choice of rooms awaits you in the arm to the North. Grishnal, you'll find yours in the Western arm, Harfind, yours are in the arm to the East, and Yilla and Cradic, yours are in the Southern arm. Once each of you have chosen your rooms, meet here once again. When all of us are together, we will dine upon the greatest feast any of you have ever had the pleasure to eat. Go, and hasten your returns! My belly growls almost as loudly as Saphira even as I speak."

As the younger generation of Riders laughed and began making their ways to their respective halls with dragons following closely, Eragon extended his consciousness towards Arya. Upon recognizing him, she lowered the barriers that had blocked her mind. _How did I do?_ Eragon asked even as he strode in her direction. Saphira promptly rushed to Fírnen's side, then nipped playfully at his snout.

_You made an interesting first impression; that__'__s certain if nothing else is, _Arya replied as she walked towards Eragon lightly. As the dragons began to wrestle in the grass, Arya said aloud, "I think you will be a great Head Rider and teacher to these Riders. Is there a room for me to choose, or…?" she said, trailing off.

"Ah, not exactly," Eragon answered, halting a few feet in front of her. "As one of the instructors, your room is up there," he finished, pointing skyward at the enormous central tower.

"Oh, I suppose that makes sense. I have news for you, Shadeslayer," she said as she pulled a piece of parchment out from a pocket in her leggings. Eragon took it when she handed it to him, then tucked it under his left vambrace, intending to read it after the feast. "It essentially says that in one month's time, a group of visitors will arrive. Among them will be Queen Nasuada, King Orrin, King Orik, Grimrr Halfpaw, Nar Garzhvog, and a few other noteworthy individuals."

Eragon looked at her apprehensively. "And what are your plans, Arya Dröttning?" he asked quietly.

Taking a moment to answer, she said, "Can we talk after the feast, in private? We have much to discuss. You and I, my old friend, have a lot of catching up to do." When he sighed and nodded in affirmation, she walked to Fírnen's side and began unstrapping his saddle silently.

**Please remember to message me if you have any questions or if you just want to talk. Thanks again guys and gals!**


	4. Catching Up

**A/N: Hey everyone, sorry this took so long! I was kind of busy, and I had a little bit of a hard time writing this one. This chapter contains some fluff, a new plot development, and I resolved a plot hole that I realized I created in the first chapter. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and please review! Thanks for your support, and another special thanks to darkdruid01.**

Arya sat at the foot of her bed, gazing around the room silently. The fairths that decorated the walls, the flowerbeds under each of the eight windows, and the simple furniture all reminded her of her childhood home in Ellesméra. Eragon stood in the center of the room, leaning against the railing of the spiral staircase while twiddling his thumbs nervously.

"So? What do you think?" Eragon asked with trepidation.

Arya beckoned him over to sit beside her. "It's beautiful, Eragon. The only detail that I would change is that it isn't in Ellesméra. Thank you."

"I sang the furniture out of a few maple trees from the forest," Eragon said. "I wasn't sure about decoration, so I just left the more ornate workmanship to the elves. Are you sure? We can change the fairths if you wish."

"Eka ástar thäet, Eragon," Arya said as she took his hands. Continuing in the Ancient Language, she said, "How have you been? It has been so long since we last spoke, and much has changed in that time."

Glowing at her praise, Eragon answered in the same tongue, "I am better now that I am not so alone. Blödhgarm and the other elves offer pleasant enough company, but my heart has yearned for you as time has gone on. I also found myself wishing another human were here; there were moments when I could have sworn that I was in the presence of a species unknown to me, especially whenever the elves began to get homesick. What about you, Shadeslayer? How have you fared since last we spoke?"

"Busy," she replied with a laugh. "With Galbatorix gone, Nasuada has been doing everything she can to spread unity. Trade between all four races is booming, raids are at an all-time low, and elves can be seen in almost every city in the Empire. Just because things are good doesn't mean it has been easy though; I think I slept more during the war than I have as Queen! It is because of this that I am surrendering my role as Queen. My place is here, helping to train new Riders as they arrive, and bringing eggs to the various leaders of each race as the eggs hatch."

Elated at her revelation, Eragon said, "That's excellent news! You're giving up the monarchy because you want to, not because someone else wants it more than you, right?"

"Yes, Eragon," Arya laughed. "The position holds no joy for me anymore, and there are others better suited to the task that will be more than willing to take my place."

"Then I'm happy for you," he said with a smile. "Although, ferrying eggs is no longer necessary. Once word reached us of the first egg hatching, Saphira and I devised a spell that will immediately alert us when an egg hatches. The spell lets us know to which race the egg hatches, and then I send a new egg to the leader of that race by using the same spell that brought Saphira's egg to me from you."

"Ah, so that's how you got the eggs out so quickly. I was away when Pïnor and Ävil hatched, but when I returned two days afterwords, two new eggs were in their places," Arya mused.

"Umaroth and Glaedr both agreed that it was a good idea," he said happily. "Not to change the topic, but what did you think of the feast?"

Arya shrugged and pulled her hands out of his. "It was as much as I expected it to be. I'm sure I would have appreciated it even more if I partook in the eating of meat; even I must admit that the Nagra looked and smelled incredible. Did you do all of the hunting? I would have a hard time believing it if you told me that any of the elves had helped."

"No, Saphira and I did it ourselves. I rather enjoyed testing my old tracking skills. I've become accustomed to using magic to help with everyday tasks; it was nice to face a challenge unaided by the arcane. Using the bow that Islanzadí gave me reminded me of both her and you. Hunting also reminded me of simpler days, when I was a simple farmboy with aspirations of being something greater. It's good to get back to your roots sometimes. On a somewhat related note, can you guess why I held the feast in the first place?"

After a thoughtful pause, Arya replied, "Was it so that you could see how the new Riders behave around one another?" When Eragon smiled and nodded, she continued, "What did you observe?"

"Harfind and Bran seem to be close, as do Cradic and Yilla. Everyone seemed friendly with one another, but I sensed that Bran might be hiding his dislike for Grishnal. How am I doing so far?"

"So far, you're spot on. Ever since Flint hatched for Bran a little over a year ago, Bran has had several instances during which he verbally abused Grishnal. To her credit, Grishnal chose to ignore him. After the third incident, I reprimanded Bran rather harshly, telling him that if he wished to continue his training, such behavior would have to cease. He apologized to me, though not to Grishnal, and hasn't had an issue with her since. Bran typically chooses to stay away from her, but when circumstances demand it of him, he works by her side rather well. If I might ask, how do you intend to test them all tomorrow?" she inquired.

"Ah, I'm afraid you'll have to wait and see. Speaking of waiting…" Eragon hesitated.

"Yes? Go on," Arya prompted.

"You once told me that we could never be. You said that our age difference was too great, and that I needed to focus upon my training so that I could defeat Galbatorix. I complied, albeit reluctantly. In fact, the only reason I stopped pursuing you was because I knew that if I continued, I would be putting our friendship at risk. Then, after we defeated the Mad King, things seemed to change between us. We evened out a bit, and I hoped that maybe we had a chance. Then you were elected Queen, and Fírnen hatched for you; once again you ranked far higher than I on the social ladder. Now though…"

"Now that I am no longer Queen and you are Head Rider, Kingkiller, and Shadeslayer, you hope that you have a chance at courting me?" Arya finished with a smirk. Eragon gave her a sheepish grin in confirmation. "Eragon…our relationship has been…strange ever since you first made mental contact with me after saving my life in Gil'ead. Before we parted last, we told one another our true names, an action that I do not regret. As an elf, that is the greatest act of trust and kinship I can perform; I'm sure Oromis told you that few elves divulge their identities anyone other than the individual closest to them. You are human, however, and that fact prevented me from telling you what I truly felt all those years ago upon that ship you sailed away on. Instead, I said that if you felt the same way the next time we met, then and only then could we try to have the relationship we both yearn for. Do you still feel as strongly as you once did?"

Eragon stood from his place on the bed, then knelt in front of her, clasping her thin hands in his and bringing them to his chest. "Arya, if my feelings have changed at all, then they have only grown stronger in your absence. Every single day since I left your side, I have wanted to fly back to Alagaësia on Saphiras back, just so I can be in your company again. There were, of course, days that Saphira wished to return as well, but we did as our duty demanded."

Knowing that he couldn't lie because of the fact that he was speaking in the Ancient Language, Arya let loose a tinkling laugh. "I've never been so glad to hear you say how you felt!" Arya exclaimed, pulling the Head Rider into a tight embrace. After a few moments, Arya released Eragon, then pulled his face toward hers. She then lightly kissed him upon his lips, after which she pressed her forehead against his.

"Really?" Eragon asked, seeming somewhat dazed.

"Yes, Eragon. I also have feelings for you, and have had them for quite some time. Those feelings were confused until Galbatorix was finally slain; with that weight finally off of our shoulders, I was able to realize that I felt the same way towards you as you felt towards me. But we both had duties we had to fulfill. Now though…well, we still have responsibilities, but I have surrendered the throne, and you have finished the construction of the new home of the Riders. An impressive feat, might I add; Galbagrind is an incredible fortress. Now, I think that we both are able to have a relationship without taking too much focus from each others' jobs," Arya finished breathlessly.

"Uh…great! That wasn't the answer I expected, but it is the one I wanted. Are you certain that you're willing to be open about it? If not, I would understand," Eragon stated.

"We'll need to remain professional when circumstances require it, especially around the students, but yes, I'm ready to give us a chance, Eragon."

Two loud, triumphant roars erupted from the floor above. _About time! _Fírnen declared mentally. Eragon pulled away from Arya, took her hand in his, then guided her up the staircase and into his room. Saphira sat at the foot of Eragons bed, licking the scales between her talons. Fírnen was lying next to her, his tail entwined with hers. He glanced at Eragon and Arya as they approached, then snorted loudly. _I__'__ve been dealing with her conflicted emotions for over five years, Eragon. __Don__'__t__ make me regret convincing her to tell you how she felt._

_Of course not, F__í__rnen. How was your__…__flight__…__with Saphira?_ Eragon asked as he blushed profusely.

_We rather enjoyed it,_ Saphira cut in, fixing him with a pointed stare.

_That__'__s splendid! _Arya said. _F__í__rnen, did Saphira have time to tell you her news?_

_Indeed, she told me she gave her egg to the Riders. And I believe that it was a wise decision on her part; not that she needed my permission, of course,_ Fírnen replied as he flashed a toothy smile.

Eragon suddenly tensed, then relaxed as a surprised expression settled over his face. "Eragon? What is it?" Arya asked, expecting trouble.

"One of my spells just alerted me…another egg has hatched!"

**Translation: Eka ástar thäet, Eragon. = I love it, Eragon**

**Please remember to review!**


	5. The First Day

**A/N: Hello again! I got into a roll while I was writing, and when I finished this chapter I realized that it was much longer than the others, but I decided to keep it because I'm happy with it. In this chapter, you'll see some action finally! Please enjoy, and don't forget to review!**

"Bran, have you heard?" Harfind asked from across the table. His coal-colored eyes twinkled from over his plate, and his broad hands were twisting his short beard in a circular pattern.

Bran looked around the courtyard, making sure none of the other Riders were listening in before returning his focus to his shorter friend. "Do you mean the new Rider, or something else?" The disgruntled look upon the dwarf's face told him he was correct. "I overheard Yilla speaking to Grishnal about it," he explained before the dwarf could ask. "Word travels fast here at the breakfast table," Bran said as he thumped the oaken table with a hand.

"Bah, never mind that! I've heard that it was another human the dragon hatched for." Lowering his voice to a whisper, Harfind continued, "I also heard that the dragon was the egg that Saphira laid a few years back."

"And who told you that, a little bird?" Bran asked, nonplussed by the shocking news. While it was common knowledge that Saphira had donated an egg to the Riders, it seemed impossible that her egg would hatch before the others.

"Nay, I heard it from Eragon's own mouth. He was discussing it last night with Arya," the dwarf retorted.

"And how in the hell did you hear that?" Yilla asked angrily as she, Cradic and Grishnal took seats nearby. Cradic sat on Bran's left, Yilla on his right, and Grishnal across from Cradic and on Harfind's right.

"Aye," murmured Cradic, "I too would like to know why you chose to eavesdrop on our Masters, young dwarf."

"Not why," Yilla said abruptly. "HOW? How did you get past his wards?"

The dwarf tapped the side of his nose knowingly, and then said, "A good magician never reveals his secrets. As for why…why not? I could, and so I did!"

"That sort of thinking is what caused the Fall," Grishnal grumbled. "How do we know you're not lying, Harfind?"

"You don't!" exclaimed the dwarf gleefully.

Bran struggled to suppress his smile when his fellow Riders appeared dismayed. "We could always force our way into his mind," he said. Now it was Harfind's turn to look upset. "I'm jesting, Harfind. Don't step on your beard."

A smile crept across the dwarf's face. "See, that's why I like you Bran. You make crude jokes. I suppose I could show you the memory, but where's the fun in that? You lot will know that I'm speaking the truth when the newest Rider gets here in a month with all of the dignitaries."

"While you were listening in on their conversation," Yilla said quickly, "did you happen to hear what our training today would consist of?"

"Afraid not," replied Harfind. "I hope we get to spar. I enjoyed kicking the tar out of Bran during his time in Ellesméra."

"And I enjoyed using the top of your head as an armrest!" Bran retorted, raising his right hand from the table with middle finger on display.

"Stop behaving like children," Cradic whispered urgently. "Eragon-elda is approaching."

"Indeed I am," Eragon said loudly as he drew near, his armor clanking softly. "To answer your question Yilla, Harfind heard my conversation with Arya last night by entering the mind of a beetle in my room and listening through its ears. And he is in fact telling the truth; the dragon is the young of Saphira and Fírnen. As for today's training, I want all of you to follow me."

Bran winced in sympathy for Harfind. The Head Rider had just earned a lot of respect from his students by not being too harsh, though Cradic seemed unimpressed by the display. Bran hurriedly stood up and followed behind Eragon, leaving the remainder of his toast at the table. His new breeches and tunic, which he had found that morning at the foot of his bed, were stark white and extremely soft. They matched what the other Riders were wearing, save Cradic, who had donned his black tunic and leggings instead.

"Master?" Bran said as he quickened his stride. "Is it true what I've heard about you?"

"That would depend upon what you've heard," Eragon replied with a chuckle.

Abashed, Bran continued, "Forgive me if I pry, Master, but is it true that you are human? You look so much like an elf, and yet I've heard that you are related to Lord Stronghammer of Palancar Valley."

"Aye, it's true," Eragon responded in a kinder tone. "Roran is my cousin, and I am human. My elvish appearance is the doing of the dragons; they made me into what I am so that I had a chance to defeat the Mad King. I shudder to think of what might have been if they had not done so." Raising his voice so all could hear, Eragon said, "First, we're going to be performing the Rimgar to the extent of our abilities. Please line up, and begin when you are ready."

Bran took his place directly in front of Eragon, slowed his breathing, and brought his hands to his sides. He progressed smoothly through the first level, taking less time than Grishnal and Harfind but more time than Yilla and Cradic. Getting into the flow of things, Bran was able to finish the second level as well, which he had only done twice before. With only the elves as his competition, Bran began the third level as he heard the Urgal and dwarf conversing quietly off to the side. He didn't get far into the third level, but he was proud to have done as well as he had. Wiping the thin sheen of sweat from his brow, he watched as Yilla stopped after completing the third level. Cradic alone was able to perform all four levels of the Dance of the Snake and Crane.

"Well done, all of you," Eragon praised. "I completed my stretches this morning before I bathed, which is why I did not join you in the exercises. From this point on, however, I will perform the Rimgar alongside you as my teacher once did with me. Now, if you would all contact your dragons, we must be off."

_Flint!_ Bran called with excitement. _Come and get me, will you? We have training to do!_

_ You__'__re lucky I was already awake, Little One. If you had woken me, I might have considered dropping you during our next flight,_ the black dragon teased. _We__'__re all on our way._

The flight from their caves took only a few moments. The thunder of dragons, Saphira included, landed in the courtyard. As each of the dragons made their ways to their Riders, Bran realized that neither Arya nor Fírnen were present. "Ebrithilar, where are Masters Arya and Fírnen?" he called.

"They are making sure everything is ready for your test," Eragon replied with a mischievous grin on his face. "Everyone, mount up! Make sure your legs are strapped in tightly. We'll be doing some aerial exercises on our way there."

Flint let out a deep hum as Bran climbed into the saddle. _And why are you so happy? You usually hate doing acrobatics,_ Bran said through their mental link.

_Because I get to see if the rumors about Saphira are true. I__'__ve heard that she is peerless when it comes to aerial combat, _Flint replied. He sprang into the air with the other dragons, his black scales glistening like obsidian in the sunlight.

As the group of Riders made their way to the eastern edges of Vardi, Saphira instructed them in various techniques to gain the advantage in a fight during flight. Although Flint wasn't as agile as some of the other dragons, he had been able to hold his own against them fairly well in Ellesméra, and he did just as well during the sparring that took place while they flew towards their first test.

Finally, Arya and Fírnen came into sight. With them were three other dragons, one orange, one red, and one silver. The orange was the largest, nearly as big as Fírnen, whereas the red and silver were both about the same size as Flint. _I don__'__t know if I like this or not, _Bran thought. A wave of trepidation crashed over him from Flint before his dragon was able to block it from their connection.

Alighting on the ground, each of the new Riders and dragons seemed apprehensive. Unbuckling the straps around his legs, Bran slid out of the saddle and beckoned to Harfind. "What do you think of this? I have a few ideas, and none of them seem pleasant."

"I'm afraid I agree, Bran," Harfind replied, twisting his beard nervously. "Let's go find out, shall we?"

The five pairs of Riders and dragons approached Eragon and the others cautiously. "What exactly is the nature of our test, ebrithilar?" Cradic called out. The orange dragon stirred at the sound of his voice, turning its gaze from Arya toward the group of newcomers. The silver dragon hissed lightly, but otherwise, not one individual from the other group made a sound. After a few moments, Cradic muttered, "I don't take kindly to being ignored."

Realizing what was happening, Bran hunkered down next to Flint's left forepaw and prepared to wait. Seeing what he was doing, Harfind quickly followed suit and sat down against Mendûnost's left flank. Grishnal was the next to realize what to do, and she chose to stand on Miramal's right side with a hand upon her snout. Yilla then noticed what her companions were doing, and chose to sit between Pïnor's front paws, leaving Cradic standing in front of Eragon, bewildered. Turning around to ask for help from the others, he realized his mistake, bowed to Eragon, then sat in the saddle upon Ävil's back.

After about an hour, Eragon finally broke the silence. "I'm pleased to see that all of you were able to remain patient, despite your curiosity. Before I tell you what your next test is, I have a few more rules to tell you. The first of these rules is that unless myself or Arya indicates otherwise, after today, you should each try to only speak in the Ancient Language, including amongst each other. The second rule is that you will wear the white tunics and breeches given to you at the start of each day; since you were unaware of this expectation, you are forgiven for today, Cradic. Thirdly, each of you should bathe before and after each day's training. Your rooms all contain tubs for you to use. Lastly, and sorry for singling you out Bran, but for the races who can grow beards, it is expected that until you can grow a full beard, you will shave each morning. When you are able to grow a full beard, it is up to you as to whether or not you keep it, so long as you keep it clean. Any questions?"

"Ebrithil, do you not sport a beard because you cannot grow one, or because Arya svit-kona prefers you clean-shaven?" Grishnal asked, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

The others, including Eragon, Arya and the dragons, laughed at her jibe. "The latter, Grishnal," Eragon replied a few moments later, still chuckling. "It would seem Harfind heard more last night than he indicated at breakfast this morning. Anyways, I'm sure you're all wondering why these three wild dragons are here. They are here to provide more of a challenge for you. Finok, the male silver, Larin, the orange female, Slinae, the red female, myself and Saphria, as well as Arya and Fírnen will be trying to prevent you from reaching your goal."

"What is our goal?" Yilla asked apprehensively.

"I'm glad you asked," Eragon answered cheerfully. "There is a cluster of replica dragon eggs located behind the seven of us. Your goal is to safely bring as many eggs as possible over to Blödhgarm. He will be keeping a tally to see which Rider and dragon delivers the most eggs. Whoever wins gets to choose any subject of magic or academics they desire, and he or she will have a day off from standard training to research their topic. The dragon of the Rider who wins will also receive a day off, and will be free to do whatever he or she wishes. Questions, comments, or concerns?"

"Are we permitted to use our weapons?" Harfind asked with a gleam in his eye.

"Of course! You don't expect Arya and I to just sit back and do nothing, do you? All of you know how to magically protect the edge of your weapon's edge, yes?" When everyone answered in the affirmative, Eragon continued, "Please do so now, and remove any wards you have placed upon yourselves. This is a test of skill, not of stamina. If it were, the elves would have an unfair advantage. I hope to test your abilities as well as your resourcefulness."

_You know how I said I wasn__'__t sure about this?_ Bran said to Flint. _I__'__ve made up my mind. I don__'__t like this._ The next few minutes were filled with tense mumbles in the Ancient Language as each of the Riders lowered their wards and blocked the edges of their weapons.

"Is everyone ready?" Eragon called out. Bran gave a curt nod, and the others also made signs of agreement. "Let's begin then."

Ten dragons shot into the air. Miramal, being the largest of the dragons in the offensive group, flew directly at Slinae, the small red dragon. Pïnor charged towards Finok, the small silver, and Ävil barreled towards Larin. Giving Bran a look of sympathy, Harfind urged Mendûnost in the direction of Fírnen and Arya. That left Eragon and Saphira for Bran and Flint.

_Shit._

_Maybe I could take advantage of the chaos to get to the eggs stealthily, _suggested Flint.

Eyeing Saphira as she floated above the other dragons, waiting to see what Flint would do, Bran dismissed the idea. _It might work later in the game, but not yet. Get as high as you can, _Bran said.

Flapping laboriously, Flint rose above the others as roars rang out, jaws snapped and swords met. Glancing at Saphira, Bran saw that she was doing as he had hoped; outpacing Flint in their race to the clouds. Just as Saphira reached and entered a cloud, Bran ordered Flint to dive. Understanding his intentions, Flint obeyed, pulling his wings close to his body in an attempt to gain as much speed as possible. As the ground and other dragons neared, Flint pulled out of the dive, his shoulders popping and straining from his enormous weight. Flint and Bran soared over the other dragons, careening towards the cluster of eggs. Bran grabbed three, then Flint winged his way over to Blödhgarm, who appeared shocked at their unusual strategy.

"Here you are, Blödhgarm-elda," Bran said happily as he deposited the fake eggs into the elf's arms. "That's three points for Bran and Flint. By the way, I _love_ the wolf look. It really sets you apart from all of the other elves."

"Thank you, Bran," Blödhgarm replied as he bared his fangs in a terrifying semblance of a smile.

Flint leaped back into the air before Bran could answer. _We have taken a quick lead, but do not let that allow you to get comfortable, _Flint scolded.

_Ah, you__'__re right. Let__'__s go get some more eggs while we can!_ Bran amended. As Flint darted towards the cluster, a mighty roar louder than any Bran had heard shook him to his core. _I think our ruse may have been discovered, _he said, gazing upwards in an attempt to find Saphira.

"Gotcha!" Eragon shouted from behind them as huge claws wrapped around Flint's hind legs and tail. Saphira flapped quickly, causing Flint to go bottom-up. She climbed until they were well above the other dragons, who were in their own battles. "That was clever, but as you can tell, Saphira doesn't like being tricked," the Head Rider said.

Flint kicked and scratched at her hind legs, desperately trying to right himself to no avail. Roaring in displeasure, he bathed Saphira and Eragon in black flames. Using the distraction to his advantage, Bran used his blunted sword as a bludgeon, flurrying several attacks in an attempt to free Flint from Saphira's grasp. Finally, she released them, spiraling away as Flint and Bran entered a dizzying free-fall. After a few seconds, Flint righted himself, air filling his wings like sails. Like frightened mice, the pair searched frantically for Saphira.

Seeing her diving directly towards them, Bran yelped. _Land, damn you! We__'__re no match for her up here!_

Pulling into a dive of his own, Flint retorted angrily, _Do you really think we__'__ll fare any better on the ground?_

_Not really, _he admitted, _but it__'__s the best chance we have of not becoming pancakes. Get us as close to the eggs as possible; once she lands, try distracting her, and I__'__ll make a run for it._ Flint opened his wings just enough to slow their descent to a safe speed. Landing heavily, he began to turn around to face Saphira's point of impact as Bran slid out of the saddle.

Saphira landed at such a high velocity that it caused the ground beneath Flint to buckle, sending both Rider and dragon sprawling. Bran got back to his feet quickly, then turned to face the cluster of eggs as he sent a spike of thought towards Saphira and Eragon. As he did, he was shocked to discover that Eragon was not with Saphira, which frightened Bran terribly.

Suddenly, something hit Bran from above, knocking him back to the ground. After a few seconds of watching the world around him spin sickeningly, he forced himself to his feet. Standing in front of him, blocking the eggs from view, was Eragon, with Brisingr held in front of him. "Ebrithil, how did you…oh gods, did you JUMP?!"

A grin spread across the Head Rider's face as he nodded. "Draw your sword," he commanded.

Still reeling, Bran obeyed, pulling the black sword that Rhunön had forged using his hands from its sheath. Wyrda, as he had named it, felt like an extension of Bran's arm. Holding the longsword in his right hand, he reached behind him with his left and unsheathed the dagger he had strapped to his ribs.

Eragon charged him, his blue sword moving faster than Bran would have thought possible. He parried clumsily, sparks flying as the black and blue blades met. Barely a second later, Bran gaped in shock as Brisingr hovered just below his chin. "How?" Bran asked breathlessly, raising his hands in surrender as his weapons fell to the dirt. "How did you move so fast?"

"I told you earlier that the dragons gave me the appearance of an elf," Eragon responded, dropping his arm to his side. "What I didn't mention was that they also gave me the strength, speed and senses of an elf too."

A loud buzzing noise filled Bran's ears before he could respond. When the sound subsided, a silence permeated the air, and Bran realized that all of the other duels had halted. "Master Eragon, why have we stopped? It's only been an hour at most," Bran said.

"We've stopped because we have used up our allotted time. Let's go and see how the others fared, shall we?" Eragon answered, sheathing Brisingr as he began walking towards Blödhgarm.

_He__'__s different from what I expected, _Flint commented as Bran sheathed Wyrda. _Master Eragon seems both kind and comical._

_ Aye, he__'__s different alright. I half expected him to be a crotchety old man who would yell at us for speaking too loudly, but he__'__s young, both in body and mind, _Bran remarked. As the young Rider neared Blödhgarm and the others, a large hand tugged at his sleeve.

"What did you think of that test?" Harfind asked, hurrying to keep pace with Bran's longer strides.

"It was…different from what I anticipated. I rather enjoyed it, actually," Bran replied.

"Thank you, Finok, Larin and Slinae for assisting us today. You are free to come and go as you please," Eragon said before Harfind could say anything else. "So, Blödhgarm, who gets to take a day off from regular training tomorrow?"

"Would you like to know the rankings, Eragon-elda?" the fur-covered elf asked. When Eragon nodded, he continued, "Tied for third place are Yilla and Harfind, with one egg each. In second is Grishnal with two eggs. Cradic and Bran are tied for first with three eggs each. How do you wish to settle the score, ebrithil?"

"Maybe we can allow both Riders to research for a day," he said after a short pause. "Cradic and Bran, you both are free tomorrow to pursue whatever subject interests you. You will, however, be expected to join us for breakfast in the morning. All of you are dismissed for lunch; Bran, would you please wait with me?"

"Of course, ebrithil," Bran answered nervously as the other Riders glanced at him before departing. Arya shot Eragon a quizzical look before she too left. Once they were alone save their dragons, he asked, "Might I ask why?"

"I know your secret," the Head Rider answered simply.


	6. Bran's Secrets

**Hey guys! I want to give another shout out to _darkdruid01_ and thank him for helping me revise. In this chapter, which takes place directly after the previous one, we learn more about Bran, as well as the dynamic of the friendship between Harfind and Bran. Thank you to those of you who have left reviews, followed, or favorited this story!**

_How can he know? _Bran asked Flint, panic creeping into his thoughts. Addressing Eragon, he continued, "My secret, ebrithil?"

Eragon allowed himself a small smile. In the Ancient Language, he said, "Aye, your secret, the reason you hate Grishnal so much. Whom did you lose?"

Realizing that the Head Rider hadn't actually discovered his secret, Bran sighed in relief, hoping Eragon would take it as defeat. In the same tongue, Bran responded, "I lost my mother and twin brother to a group of Urgals when I was five."

"You still had your father? Why didn't the Urgals kill him, or you for that matter?" Eragon asked, sounding confused.

"My father and I weren't there. My father died five years ago, during the Battle for Uru'baen. I was left an orphan in Feinster, living on the streets, forced to beg in order to survive," Bran said bitterly.

"You do know that it isn't Grishnal's fault that your family died, right? In fact, there haven't been any -"

"I'm not stupid! Of course I know it isn't Grishnal's fault…I was raised to hate Urgals, since the day I was born. When I was a child, I was told stories about the atrocities that they committed and reveled in. If you truly are human, and you were born in Carvahallas it is said, then you must've been raised to despise them as much as I! Is it not true that Urgals slaughtered the entire village of Yazuac? Didn't they attack you dozens of times, even before the Battle under Farthen Dur? And didn't you decimate hundreds of them? How can you have moved past all of that?" Bran asked hotly.

The young man's outburst seemed to surprise Eragon, but only briefly. Taking a breath, the Head Rider said, "I did hate them Bran. There were moments that I hated Urgals more than I hated the Ra'zac. Despite my upbringing and previous experiences, Nasuada and Oromis, my mentor, were able to convince me that for the sake of Alagaësia, I had to look beyond my own wishes and bias. Once I was able to swallow my hatred, I realized that humans have committed equally abhorrent acts toward Urgals, if not worse ones. Humans and Urgals alike find glory in warfare. Most Urgals are raised hating and fearing humans. I didn't know this until I grew to respect a Kull by the name of Garzhvog. By the end of the war, I considered him a friend."

"None of that changes the fact that they killed my mother and brother!" Bran shouted, on the verge of tears. "How can you expect me to forget what they did? How can you - ?"

"I don't," Eragon interrupted, grabbing the boy by the shoulders and staring at him intently. "I would never expect you to forget your family. I _do _expect you to forgive, or at least give everyone you meet a chance before you decide that you dislike them, Urgal or otherwise. Can you do that, Bran? Can you give them the chance to prove themselves?"

_Really think before you answer, _Flint interjected. _What you say next will not only hold weight, but it will hold you. An oath in the Ancient Language is binding._

Bran felt a single tear roll down his left cheek as he said, "I'll try, Master, but I don't know if I can."

Eragon brushed the tear away with a thumb. "I know you'll be able to, Bran. And when it's just you and me, you can call me Eragon, but only if we're in a fitting setting."

"I will…Eragon."

It was about six hours later, and Bran had just gotten back to his room from the afternoon training session. Sweat and dirt coated his limbs, and he had acquired several bruises during the course of the day. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him, but he had to wash up and be ready for dinner in an hour, so sleep wasn't an option yet.

Bran stood in the doorway of his new room, taking in his still unfamiliar surroundings. A wooden desk, cedar by the look of it, stood against the right wall. The desk had multiple drawers, as well as an extremely comfortable chair. Immediately behind the desk was the bed, dressed in fine white linens. A nightstand was directly behind the large bed, also made of cedar.

The majority of the left wall was blocked from view by an empty bookshelf. In the back left corner was an alcove with a mirror hanging from a brass hook and a depression in the floor, which was where Bran could bathe. The back wall had a large window in its center, which faced East. In the center of the wall behind Bran was an oaken dresser, filled with white tunics and leggings, as well as a few different outfits. These consisted primarily of clothes which were fit for nobility, although there were also some that looked like they had been worn by some farmhand hundreds of times.

Bran removed his now filthy tunic, exposing his tan, recently developed muscles. The cool air felt nice against his skin, but the red Erisdar suspended in the middle of the room near the ceiling made the sweat on his abdomen look like blood. Tossing his shirt onto the bed, Bran made his way over to the alcove in the corner. Suddenly, a quiet knock sounded from behind him. "Who is it?" Bran called.

"It's Harfind. Open up, would you? I feel exposed in this massive hallway with no one else around," came the dwarf's reply.

Bran reached the dorr in three quick strides, opening it to allow his friend inside. "So, what's so important that you couldn't wait until after dinner?"

"I know who your father was," Harfind blurted nervously.

Fear coursed through Bran like a bolt of lightning, but he kept his voice steady as he said, "No you don't. I didn't even know my father."

"But you knew who he was," retorted the dwarf. "How could you not tell me, after all we've been through in the past year? Why didn't you tell me that you're one of Galbatorix's bastard children?"

Disbelief hit Bran like a charging Kull. How had Harfind found out? "I - I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me Bran, especially not about this," Harfind said whilst twisting his yellow beard frantically. "WHY didn't you tell me?"

"Sit. Now," Bran said. Harfind hopped onto the bed, still twisting his short beard. After casting as many spells as he could think of to protect them from eavesdroppers, Bran took the chair and lodged it firmly under the handle of the door, then sat in it. "How did you find out?"

"I…sort of…heard Eragon talking to Arya about it…"

"Harfind, please tell me that you're jesting," Bran said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. When the dwarf shook his head somberly, Bran exploded. "WHAT THE HELL AM I GOING TO DO NOW?! I'll have to go into exile! DAMMIT ALL! Tell me exactly what you heard, right now, or I swear I will find a way to bring the dead back to life just so that I can kill you twice!"

"Bran, Eragon doesn't care," Harfind began.

"Horse shit!"

"If you interrupt, I can't tell you what I heard," Harfind said, his black eyes glittering angrily. A few minutes later, Bran had calmed down a little, and swore in the Ancient Language to not interrupt again. The dwarf continued, "Eragon told Arya that he accidentally gleaned something from your mind when he won against you at the end of the mental sparring session. Eragon made her swear an oath not to share what he told her with anyone, and she complied. He then told her that he had seen a memory of you reading a note from your mother almost a year after her death. The letter explained who your father was and why he hadn't been around to help when your family hit financial trouble. Arya started to panic, fearing that you were a member of the Black Hand, but Eragon told her not to worry. He then said that just because Galbatorix was supposedly your father does not mean that you will make the same mistakes as the Mad King. He mentioned how his half-brother, Murtagh, had been able to overcome the legacy of his father, Morzan."

"After a little convincing, Arya agreed to not apprehend you, but she added the condition that they would be keeping a very close eye on you. Eragon agreed, then they started discussing other things, so I rushed here to confront you. So I ask again; why didn't you tell me?" Harfind concluded.

"Why do you think?!" Bran shouted. "I didn't want you to look at me like I'm some kind of freak! I didn't want to admit to myself that he was my father, let alone tell anyone else. Can you not understand that?"

"I can, but I also understand that you don't trust me, or know me very well for that matter."

"Harfind, I -"

"SHUT UP BRAN!" the dwarf yelled, veins popping on his forehead as he leaped off of the bed. At eye level with the seated human, he thrust a meaty finger at the boy's face. "I can't believe you! You actually think that our friendship means so little to me that I would abandon it because of who your father may or may not be? I don't give a shit who your father is!"

"Then why are you so upset that I didn't tell you?" Bran asked, confusion evident on his face.

"BECAUSE WE'RE FRIENDS!" Harfind roared, punching the door to prevent himself from hitting Bran. "We're supposed to tell each other things! If I don't know about the skeletons in your closet, then how am I supposed to trust you? I've told you about all of my dirty secrets, so why haven't you done the same? What else haven't you told me?"

"N - Nothing Harfind! I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, okay? I was afraid that I would lose the only true friend I've ever had, as well as what I said earlier. I should have told you, and I'm sorry," Bran said desperately. He rose out of the chair as the dwarf turned his back to Bran, breathing heavily in his rage. "Can you forgive me?"

Harfind turned around silently, hands clenched into fists. Taking a steadying breath, he replied cooly, "I don't know. Now get out of my way before I hit you."

Bran sighed and moved out of his friend's way, pulling the chair away from the handle. When the door closed behind the mumbling dwarf, Bran punched the stone wall, yelling as his fists slammed against the smooth surface repeatedly. A moment passed thus, after which Bran looked at his hands to assess the damage. The third and middle fingers of his left hand were dislocated, as was the first finger on his right. Several of his knuckles were exposing cartilage, and blood was trickling down his fingers onto the cold floor. A tear silently joined the small red puddles, then another.

_Bran, why did you do this to yourself? _Flint asked from his cave, distraught.

_Because I didn__'__t have a foe to hit instead, _he replied bitterly. He quickly severed as much of their connection as he could, leaving only a pinprick of the dragon's consciousness in his mind. He quickly walked over to the alcove once again. Bran set his teeth in a grimace, then quickly put the three dislocated fingers back into their sockets with a loud groan. Muttering a short phrase in the Ancient Language, he was able to reknit the skin on the backs of his hands with what little strength he had left. Once he had healed himself, Bran stripped his pants and sunk into the water as steam curled into the air around him.

**Please remember to review, or PM me if you have any input or questions!**


	7. Larin's Demise

**Hey everyone! Quick update; the title of this story has been changed to better fit the plot. The new title is "We are all dwarves" in dwarvish. Also, I changed just a little detail in the second chapter, which was changing the size of Vardi from equal to Parlim to the size of Beirland and Parlim put together. This chapter is a bit longer, so I hope you enjoy! Lastly, I would like to thank _darkdruid01_ once again for his help in editing this, and I would also like to thank those of you that have left reviews, followed or favorited this story.**

"Does it seem a bit…chilly?" Yilla asked, leaning slightly over the table as she did so. "There's hardly any conversation going on."

_There is a reason that no one is talking, you twit,_ Cradic thought to himself, masterfully hiding his exasperation. "You are right, no one is very talkative tonight. Harfind is giving the human a look that could shame a dragon, and Bran has not touched his meal. What do you think, Grishnal?"

After a few words in her native tongue, the dam responded, "The boy seems both ashamed and hurt, whereas the dwarf is obviously angry with him. There's something else though; the boy almost seems angry with himself. I also notice that a scar has disappeared from Bran's right hand, which means he's healed himself recently. You don't think the two came to blows, do you?"

_I certainly hope so. Those two have been a nuisance since Bran joined our ranks, _Cradic thought. "I rather doubt it. The boy and dwarf have been nigh inseparable since Bran's first day in Ellesméra. It would be…unfortunate if they were to begin fighting now, especially if we all want to make good impressions on Eragon."

"That's not what's important, Cradic," Yilla scolded softly.

_She__'__s right, partner of my mind, _Ävil said before he could respond. _You may not like Bran or Harfind, but you know they would both lay down their lives in order to save yours. Would you do the same for them?_

_ They are not even worthy to be Riders! _Cradic retorted angrily. _Elves were the only race that fought against the dragons, so elves should be the only Riders. Eragon was foolish to incorporate the dwarves and Urgals into the pact, especially since he doesn__'__t deserve to be a Rider himself!_

_ He defeated Galbatorix, you fool! _Ävil shouted mentally. _He deserves to be a Rider more than anyone, especially you. If it weren__'__t for Eragon, elves and dragons would both be extinct by now, and you know it._

_ Bah, you know nothing. Finish your meal, hatchling._

_ Sometimes I don__'__t even know why I hatched for such a bigoted, ungrateful sod. _With that she slammed their mental contact shut, preventing him from getting the last word.

Cradic sat bolt upright, instantly alert. He had seen something during his waking dreams, something immensely important, but he couldn't quite grasp the memory. _Ä__vil, I know you are still angry with me for what I said last night, but did my dreams bleed into your mind? I can__'__t completely remember them, but I know that whatever I dreamed about will have giant consequences._

_ I don__'__t know if your dreams bled through our link or if I had my own dream, but I agree, something is happening. All of the other dragons, Saphira and F__í__rnen included, are having similar conversations with their Riders. Get to the courtyard as quickly as you can! _she yelled, sending him an image of five dragons attempting to simultaneously exit their caves, winging their way towards Galbagrind. Whatever was going on was momentous enough to frighten them.

After throwing on a black tunic and black pants, Cradic ran to the door, grabbing his belt as he went. Sprinting northward to the courtyard, he strapped the belt to his waist, slightly comforted by the familiar weight of Togira at his left hip. Loosening the blade and pulling it partially out of its sheath, Cradic couldn't help but wonder what was happening, and what he would be able to do about it. Flying past more doors than he cared to count, he began to wish that he had chosen a room closer to the courtyard.

Cradic ran under the enormous archway that marked the end of the hall and looked out into the courtyard. The sight he beheld chilled his blood, and caused him to instantly draw his bone-colored sword.

Sitting atop his huge red dragon, Morzan was holding Zar'roc over his head and shouting something towards the North hall, which was the direction he and his monstrous steed were facing. Quelling his fear at the sight of the foe he had thought to be dead, Cradic loosed a battle cry and charged, leaping into the air at the landing beast.

"Letta!" the man shouted, turning to face the elf.

Suspended in midair, Cradic was both astonished and frightened that his wards hadn't protected him from the hostile magic. He was even more astonished to realize that it was Murtagh in front of him, not Morzan, although that realization did little to abate Cradic's sudden bloodlust. "Release me, you traitorous swine! You have some nerve showing your face around here!"

"Hush, elf. I come with tidings from Her Majesty the Queen. Where are the others? Where is Eragon?" Murtagh asked urgently, sheathing Zar'roc as he did so.

"They are on their way, and will kill you if you do not release me immediately!" As if on cue, Grishnal appeared at the western edge of the courtyard and Yilla emerged from the hallway behind him. In the distance, the thunder of dragons could easily be heard in the still, cool air. "If you mean no harm, then why did you have that _abomination_ at the ready?" Cradic asked, indicating the crimson sword.

"Because I know that I don't have many admirers, here or in Alagaësia. It's better to be safe than sorry," the man said loudly. With a gesture, he released Cradic from his magical snare.

Cradic sheathed Togira, but kept his hand on its hilt as Saphira and Fírnen landed in the courtyard. He then jogged over to Eragon as he dropped out of his saddle, fully armored and Brisingr at his hip. "Master, what do we do about these traitors?"

"They're not traitors, Cradic," Eragon replied as he began to stride towards his half-brother. Harfind and Bran finally appeared from the eastern and northern halls respectively. "Without Murtagh and Thorn, Galbatorix would still be alive. Never forget that."

"Eragon," Murtagh said with a slight nod after slipping out of the saddle. He eyed the loose circle that had formed around him and his dragon, appearing uneasy with being surrounded. As the Head Rider drew closer, Murtagh seemed to tense slightly. "I come with a message from Queen Nasuada."

Ignoring everyone else, Eragon embraced Murtagh tightly. "It's good to see you, brother." Appearing surprised, Murtagh took a moment to return the gesture. "You stayed in exile for too long. How did Nasuada contact you? I've tried many times, but I was never once successful."

"I've been living in Ilirea for almost a year now," Murtagh said.

"Why didn't Nasuada, or you for that matter, tell me?" Eragon asked, confused.

"She thought it best that you be told only if circumstances deemed it absolutely necessary. The queen knew how important it was that you not be distracted from your work. I disagreed, but I knew that I would be unable to convince her to change her mind, so I complied. About that message…it is rather important."

"How do we know that you are not lying?" Cradic called, voicing a concern that all five of the new Riders shared. Casting a glance skyward as the group of dragons arrived, he continued, "Why should we trust anything this traitor says?"

_Because we say that they are trustworthy, _Saphira said, broadcasting her thoughts so all could hear. _F__í__rnen or myself could easily have been in Thorn__'__s place, or Thorn ours. Both he and Murtagh did the best that they could with the situation they were given, and they have received pardons from Nasuada, Orik, Garzhvog, Orrin, Arya and Grimrr Halfpaw. Are you willing to dismiss the actions of the world__'__s leaders simply because you do not want to forgive an innocent man and dragon?_

Face flushed with shame, Cradic bowed deeply to Murtagh and Thorn. "Forgive my hasty words," he said. _I do not trust them, but I can not risk angering our mentors, _he said privately to Ävil.

"What news do you bring? And how were you able to cross the wards, or find us at all for that matter?" Eragon inquired of Murtagh.

"I used the Name to scry you, then used it again to slip through the barriers around the island. The news is dire, and I think we should speak alone, Eragon."

"A noble sentiment, but the students will find out one way or another. You might as well say it now," the Head Rider sighed.

"As you wish," Murtagh said after a brief pause. "A large, orange dragon was found dead near Galfni, the dwarvish city. While the death is certainly tragic, it would not be noteworthy if she had been killed in some other way. Her wounds led me to believe that…well, they made it appear as if she was caught mid-flight and crushed. Most of her bones were shattered, her wings were all but gone, and her eyes were popping out of her skull."

A brief silence followed his words, which was interrupted by Arya. "How do you know that the dragon was female, Murtagh?"

"We had no idea at first. When I went to investigate on behalf of Nasuada, I immediately assumed it was male, based solely on its size. While I was attempting to determine the cause of death, an egg slid out of her bloating corpse," he said, turning around to face Thorn's flank as he spoke. He climbed up Thorn's left foreleg, then pulled something out of his saddlebag. After jumping down to the ground, his dark clothes rustling when he landed, Murtagh slowly unwrapped what he was holding. There, under the white cloth, sat an amber egg. "I consulted with the Queen, and we both felt that because its mother was dead, the egg might as well be given to the Riders."

"Were you able to determine when she died?" Eragon asked as he took the large egg out of his half-brother's grasp.

"She died yesterday afternoon. I was able to get to her within an hour of her death. Lucky I was visiting Tronjheim, eh?" he asked, raising his eyebrows with a small grin.

_I wonder if Glaedr or Umaroth have ever heard of something like this, _Fírnen commented.

"Maybe we should pay them a visit," Eragon said. "They're eager to meet the new Riders, and I have to take the egg to the vault anyhow. Before we leave, however, I want oaths in the Ancient Language from each of you, dragons included. Here is what you must say…"

Eragon spent the next ten minutes extracting promises from each Rider and dragon, wording the oaths carefully so as to avoid possible loopholes. Once the fourteen of them had sworn that they would never reveal what they were about to see, the location of the vault, and that they would never visit the vault unless told to do so or accompanied by him, he ordered them all to prepare to leave. "Will we be going far, Master?" Cradic asked.

Eragon shook his head, folding his arms across his chest plate as he did. "We can get there before noon, easily." He then clambered into the saddle that was still on Saphira's back. "We need to leave, now. Sorry you five, but we don't have time to wait for you to get your saddles. You'll have to ride bareback."

Cradic climbed up to the spot on Ävil's back where there was a gap between the ivory spikes that lined her spine. Gripping the spike in front of him, he tightened his knees so that he had a more secure hold. _Try to fly as smoothly as possible. I would rather not be impaled today, _he said, only half joking.

Ävil ignored him as she took off, following closely behind Miramal's teal tail. Saphira led the thunder of apprehensive dragons away from Galbagrind, heading in the direction of the sun that had recently risen above the horizon. They reached the eastern edge of Vardi in about an hour and a half, the smaller dragons struggling to match Saphira's breakneck pace. The group then dove, plummeting several hundred feet, cliffs blurring past as they descended. About halfway down the face of the cliffs, Saphira halted, as did the other seven dragons.

The group of sixteen floated in front of a small outcropping of rock, thuds from eight pairs of wings echoing off of the wall of the island. From the small shelf of stone, a single lily was growing amidst some crabgrass. _Ebrithilar, I thought we were visiting the Eldunar__í__. Why have we stopped here? _Mendûnost asked, allowing all to hear his words.

Eragon turned his head to glance back at the other Riders, gave them a wink and a sly grin, then tightened his grip on the spike in front of him. Before anyone could utter a word or a cry, Saphira rushed toward the outcropping. Cries of fear turned into gasps of shock as first her head disappeared into the cliff, then the rest of her body. As the tip of her tail vanished into the stone, Fírnen inched his snout toward the lily, pushing himself forward until he too disappeared. Mendûnost followed, then Thorn, then Pïnor and Miramal, leaving Flint and Ävil outside with their Riders. Bran looked over at Cradic, shrugged, then urged Flint into the cliff.

_What do you think we will find in there? _Cradic asked nervously.

_Let__'__s find out, _Ävil said as she lunged forward. The elf instinctively flinched as his body passed through what appeared to be solid rock. Looking backward, he saw that the illusion covered a hole in the cliff large enough that would have allowed even Shruikan to enter unhindered.

Shifting his gaze to what lay ahead, Cradic saw that the others were all flying briskly down an enormous tunnel. The stone had obviously been shaped by magic, since not even the dwarves would have been able to carve such a vast tunnel in a perfect circle unaided by the arcane. Cradic urged Ävil to catch up to the group in front of them.

After a few minutes of silent flying, Eragon called out for everyone to land. Once all eight dragons were on the curved floor, the group moved forward once again. A moment later, the tunnel opened into a square room that could have housed the entire city of Ilirea. The roof was shrouded in darkness, as were the faraway walls. In the center of the vast cavern sat a small figure, which gleamed in the light of the dozens of werelights floating throughout the cavern. After a few more minutes of walking, the group neared the center of the room, and Cradic was shocked to realize that the figure was made out of polished metal. The statue took the shape of a well-muscled man, had the head of a dragon, wore nothing but a loincloth of the same material as his body, and had a shield by his left hand and a Rider's sword by his right.

"What's with the statue?" Harfind asked, his voice bouncing around the room.

Before a word could be said, the metal man's eyes flashed open, emitting a fiery red glow. Cradic and the others winced simultaneously as hundreds, perhaps thousands of voices clamored for their attentions. Cradic looked around, wondering where all of the people were hiding, until he realized that the clamorous shouts were actually mental rather than verbal. As the number of voices slowly thinned, Cradic could make out the vague shapes of alcoves set into the far wall, some of which glowed softly, and others that did not. Finally, only one voice remained.

_I am Umaroth. I speak as the representative of the dragons confined to their Eldunar__í__. Why have you brought so many to see us, Eragon-finiarel?_

_ Something is happening in Alaga__ë__sia. We aren__'__t sure what as of yet, but we know that it is dire. All of us, who live in Galbagrind anyways, dreamed of something last night that we cannot remember, but that left an impression of great peril. Murtagh investigated the corpse of a dragon, and the news is strange. I think I__'__ll allow him to explain, _Eragon said.

_Is this the same Murtagh who was enslaved by Galbatorix?_ Umaroth asked.

_Indeed, _Murtagh answered. _I am sorry I was not here to help further the progress of the Riders, but Thorn and I needed some time to ourselves in order to determine our course of action._

_ Do not apologize, young one. What happened to the two of you was a cruel twist of fate, and was in no way your fault. Would you be comfortable showing us the memory of the corpse? It might help us better understand what is going on, _Umaroth said kindly.

Murtagh appeared slightly uncomfortable, but he agreed, with the condition that no one, dragon or otherwise, attempt to view any other part of his mind. Once everyone complied, Murtagh closed his eyes, furrowing his brow in concentration. Seconds later, a vision flashed before Cradic's eyes:

_The large, orange dragon laid with its tail in a small stream, which ran red after meeting the corpse. The Beors rose all around, huge and foreboding. Several dwarves surrounded the crumpled body with the job of driving off any predators that were attracted by the smell of blood._

_ "__I don__'__t like this,__" __one said, gesturing with his thumb at the body. __"__Why is it here? I thought Eragon said that the dragons would be leaving Alaga__ë__sia with him__…"_

_ "__That__'__s what you__'__re worried about?__" __another replied as Murtagh__'__s eyes took note of the dragon__'__s popping yellow eyeballs. __"__I__'__m more concerned about what killed it! Something fierce is living in these mountains, something I__'__ve never had the displeasure of meeting. What could have crushed a dragon?__"_

_ Suddenly, a fresh wave of blood entered the stream, causing the smell of blood to grow stronger instantly, and churning Murtagh__'__s stomach. Moving towards the dragon__'__s tail to investigate, Murtagh was shocked to see a large, amber egg with black veins falling to the moss-covered ground. Picking it up gingerly, he shot a glance at the dwarves, none of which had noticed. Murtagh carefully brought the egg to Thorn__'__s side, then wrapped it in a white cloth and placed it in a saddlebag. __"__I think it__'__s time we paid Eragon and Saphira a visit,__" __he said._

When the image faded, silence filled the enormous room. _This is worse than I thought. That appeared to be Larin, one of the dragons who helped with the training yesterday,_ Eragon said, obviously upset. _What do you think of this, Umaroth?_

A moment passed before the old dragon answered. _I have never seen anything like it__…_

_What about the other Eldunar__í__? Surely one of them must have some idea as to what killed her, _Eragon pleaded. _Glaedr, do you have any thoughts?_

_Neither I nor Oromis ever experienced this. I__'__m sorry, young one, _Glaedr replied.

_I know what killed her, _a new voice said.

_What, or who, killed Larin, Valdr-elda? _Arya asked quietly.

The ancient dragon did not reply for several tense minutes. Finally, he said, _We are all dwarves._ No one could get another word out of him after that.

**Please remember to review! Let me know what you think!**


End file.
